Why you shouldn't give your number to the STRANGE
by crocious
Summary: Cute little friendship one shot in which America is obnoxious and England is confused.


**A/N: This is based on an actual conversation I have had. My go-to best-friend-fic-couple pretty much definitely has each other's numbers, so I've tentatively branched out into Hetalia, which I've only just gotten into. But seriously? How awesome is America? We rock right out loud.**

**Eenyhoo. Tell me what you think. This is my first publish since I ended OSAC. **

The countries burst out of the G8 meeting like confetti from a cannon. Some bathed in the fresh sunshine for a bit, some carried on conversations with each other and still others immediately went to buy food, but they all seemed to collectively sigh in relief at being outside.

Except England.

England had no time or patience for sighing and was far from relieved when America followed him out, chatting animatedly about everything under the sun. Rather, England grumbled and occasionally corrected America's grammar.

"So I was like, whoosh! And the dude was all, 'Woah, dude, seriously!' So I was all 'Bitch, why you all up in my grill?' And he totally backed off! But then he didn't put enough sugar in my coffee and I went back and I said (blah blah blah...)"

England tried to zone him out. He really did. He tried to focus on Italy's brilliant architectural features rather than the idiot keeping pace with him. He tried to watch the pretty women stroll by instead of the furious pace America's mouth seemed to move. He tried to listen to the birds cooing at each other from the massive oaks, but that stupid twit was LOUD!

"America, old chap? Shut up, will you?"

America laughed loudly. "I love your accent, man! Say something else!"

England groaned and strolled toward a bench, his former colony following and mocking him the entire way. He tried to catch someone's eye to save him, but Italy was helplessly oblivious, Japan frowned apologetically and China snickered in a "You deserve this" way. England sighed and sat down.

He felt something grab his hand and he started. He looked up at America and glared, but America just grinned and pressed a slip of paper into his palm.

"What's this, then?" England stared at the row of numbers.

"It's my cell number!" America smiled in what could only be described as a triumphant fashion.

"Git, I HAVE your number. I don't need your personal line."

"Sure you do! It's in case you ever wanna call me up and talk! It's totally work free!"

England rubbed his temples. "Under what possible circumstances would I want to call you up to chat?"

"The circumstance of _awesomeness_, Iggy. Of awesomeness."

England looked up at America. Poor sod. He was completely serious.

England sighed and went to pocket the slip of paper, but America grabbed his wrist. "No, dummy! You have to program it in right away! You might wash your pants and forget to take it out and then neither of us will have each other's number to call and talk for hours about movies and friends and stuff!"

"Tragedy," England murmured, pulling out his little personal cell. Satisfied, America ran up to a gelato vender and ordered something presumably ridiculous. England looked down at the row of numbers in his phone and saved it. Under 'name,' he typed "Git."

England snickered. America had turned and was heading back, a rainbow mountain of creamy goodness in his hand, waving a second spoon at England. The former empire smiled tenderly at his little brother and pressed a button on his phone. The screen lit up to say "Calling Git."

America had reached the bench when "The Star Spangled Banner" started playing from his general butt area. He set down the gelato and reached into his pocket giving a thumbs up to England.

"You've got awesome!"

England smiled. "Yes, well. Now you have my num-"

"Who is this?" America's voice deepened into a suspicious growl, despite having England directly in front of him. England blinked.

"I-it's me."

"I don't recognize this number. Explain yourself!"

"You bloody arse, I just wanted to make sure you had my personal-"

"Speak the password!"

"I'll do no such thing, you bleeding git of a man! Unbelievable, I'm right the hell-"

"That's right!" America's voice was filled with mock admiration. "How did you know?"

England grumbled a few choice words and hung up.

America looked at the screen of his iPhone and grinned. "Sorry, had to take that." He handed a spoon to England and started digging into the Million Flavor Mountain.

England sighed and filled his spoon.

"I'm going to regret giving you my number, aren't I?"

"Yeah, probably," grinned America between mouthfuls.


End file.
